


Summoned

by F1_rabbit



Category: Tennis RPF
Genre: M/M, POV Second Person, Reader-Insert, Succubi & Incubi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-31
Updated: 2016-12-31
Packaged: 2018-09-08 07:17:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8835334
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/F1_rabbit/pseuds/F1_rabbit
Summary: You've just moved into your new house, and you've found some interesting things in the attic.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [writtenfripperies](https://archiveofourown.org/users/writtenfripperies/gifts).



You've moved into a new house, and it's all yours, after all those years living with your parents you're free. Saved enough to buy your own place, and although it's a little run down, it's liveable, and you did get it really cheap so it's a good investment.

The previous owner had left a lot of things in the house, the furniture's not quite your taste but it'll do for now and all the appliances seem to work which is a godsend. All it needs is a good tidy and it'll feel like home.

You get in just after lunch, though you didn't have much time for any between the paperwork and chatting with the agent.

To try and restore order, and because it's just you, you decide to survey the rooms one by one so you can work out what needs doing, or buying. The living room and kitchen are as largely inoffensive as they were during the viewing. Bathroom is also fine, if a strange colour compared to the surprisingly modern facilities. The bedroom was as you remembered it, though the size of the bed seemed a little optimistic considering your single status.

On the ceiling you spot a hatch to what is presumably a loft. You're used to seeing such things on landings but not adjoining actual rooms, and you're curious to see how long it has been since it had been touched.

Luckily you're tall enough to reach the dangling cord and you shield your eyes from the falling dust as it creaks open. The musty air suggests that no-one has been up there in a long time, but there's a hint of cologne in the air that seems much newer. It's not something you consciously register but it's what encourages you to climb up the ladder and into the loft.

Once you're up there, you're relieved to see that there's a small window letting in some light, otherwise it would be pitch black. There's an assortment of boxes, some look almost new and others are tatty and fraying, their card a strange colour and they seem stained by time itself.

In the corner sits the only box not made of card, a leather chest, like the sort that magicians would use and you wonder what the previous owner did for a living, but you will never know.

It's curious sitting there all alone, and the way the light shines in the window makes it looks like it's sitting in its own spotlight, it's metal studs gleaming bright, drawing your eye to its mystique.

You walk over and kneel in front of the chest, and you realise a large ornate key is already in the lock. You reach to turn it, but there's a brief shock that you assume to be static from the loft insulation. Slowly, so as not to bring up any more dust, you lift open the lid to reveal a curious set of objects.

Most immediately arresting, is a collection of antique prophylactics which you draw a hand away from with a mildly disgusted giggle. Lying next to them is what looks to be a book, swaddled in rich red velvet.

Judging by the rest of the contents, you assume it must be an interesting read, and one which you will no doubt have to google. Your stomach rumbles, so you extricate yourself out of the loft and head downstairs to where the light is better, surprised by the bright light shining in.

You end up sitting in an old antique chair, the centrepiece of the living room, and now that you've brought your laptop into the room it makes the furniture seem even more antiquated, the shiny plastic at odds with the red velvet. You blow the dust off the book, wishing that you'd done this in the attic but then it would have only disturbed the thick layer of dust that lay everywhere up there.

Without the dust clouding its surface you can see the gilded edges of the book sparkling in the light and the deep red cover looks even more luxurious.

With bated breath you open the cover, there's electricity in the air as you see the intricate detail on the page, your eyes scanning it all for some clue as to what the book is about.

The diagrams seem technical in nature but the labels, although they're in English, they don't mean anything to you.

After a few pages of sketches there's an index page, with lots of words that look foreign, like Krampus and Hexenbeast, but then something rings a bell when you get to the word Incubus.

The term drags up a few memories, and you swear you can remember reading something about them as an ancient legend, mythical beings that benevolently fed upon the sexual energy of humans, though it could well have been a bad plot from some porn film that you watched.

Judging from the diagram on the same page they could also change shape, to better suit their individual, make their 'feed' more efficient.

Needing the lateral thinking, you fetch a drink that you'd bought yourself as a housewarming gift, and go on to peruse the subsequent pages. They seem to detail a ritual that would bring one of these creatures to you, and feeling a little lonely and in need of a laugh, you overturn the rug you knew you were going to throw away to mark things out on, and grab some red paint you've borrowed from a friend.

Finding an idol of what you'll be wishing for takes a little bit of thought, as you certainly wouldn't trust yourself to draw it.

You laugh at the sight of the pentagram crudely painted on the old rug, it was frayed and stained and yet somehow it looks better for your addition. With a picture in mind you go rummaging through the boxes you have brought in from your car, you don't have a lot of possessions but you do own a nice new photo printer that you've bought for work. Finding the paper for it takes longer still, but you want this to be perfect.

You aren't sure why you are taking this so seriously, maybe it's the alcohol clouding your judgement, but deep down a little bit of you wants this to work, even if it is just one night of mind blowing sex, you'll gladly sell your soul for that.

The paper found, you hook the printer up, it doesn't take you long to find the photo, it's the one you use as your desktop background, and it was in such high resolution that it will be crystal clear, you don't want any imperfections if you can help it.

You sip at your scotch while waiting for the photo to print, each mechanical whirr taunting you as it goes about its business. Finally, when it's done, you lay the photo in the centre of the pentagram, in what you hoped is a suitably reverential manner for such a hallowed ceremony.

Glass in hand you return to your seat, following the instructions in the book carefully. You light the candles on each point of the pentagram, watching the flames flicker in the slight draft that the older building allowed through. When you are sure that they are going to stay lit, you began to read the incantation, hoping that you are pronouncing the words right. Although it looks like English, the words seem unfamiliar to your tongue, like a dialect that you can understand but not repeat.

Once the last syllable has rolled off your tongue there is a gust of wind, extinguishing the candles, and you laugh nervously, awaiting your incubus.

After fifteen minutes it becomes apparent that nothing is going to happen and you leave the makeshift pentagram while you go to order a pizza, a reward for a day spent unpacking and tidying.  You wonder why the ceremony hasn't worked before laughing to yourself. It didn't work because it isn't real, there's no such thing as magic, or incubi. 

Having shrugged it off as one of those crazy stories that you'll tell people in the pub, only for them not to believe it, you go to get a shower and wash away the layer of dust covering you from all the rooting around in the attic.

You're nearly done showering when you hear the doorbell ring. You quickly wash off the last of the soap and throw on your dressing gown, which you had the foresight to unpack, before rushing down to the door.

Your wallet is sitting by the door and you take out the money as you open it, so focused on the pizza that it's not until you hand the money over that you realise who the delivery guy is.

For a dozen different reasons, your heart jumps into your mouth and your mind races with the impossibility of it. Unable to look up in case you're imagining it, your eyes zone out while looking at the name badge with 'Rafael' typed neatly across it.

You wonder how he can stay outside on a chilly evening in just the uniform polo-shirt and smart trousers, but another part of you assumes he knew he wouldn't be outside for long.

His polite cough and the sight of an outstretched hand bring you back to your senses, and you look up from the pizza and change.

You don't even have to say a word, it's like he can read your mind, and as you hold the door open he wanders into your house, making sure that your eyes follow his perfect rear as he slinks towards the bedroom.

He pauses at the bottom of the stairs and winks at you, causing you to blush, you were thinking about him sprawled out on your bed and now it feels like it is projected on a giant screen for him to see.

You shut the door and leave the pizza on a little table by the door, you're no longer hungry, well, not hungry for food. You're craving something else now.

As though you're in a trance you walk up to him, there seems to be an aura of something around him and as you get closer you realise that it's a cloud of pure arousal, every step nearer to him makes you a little harder, a little more desperate for him.

When you're within touching distance he raises his hand and you stop dead in your tracks, staring as he climbs the stairs, every step emphasising the perfectly toned muscles and you can't help thinking about how good that's going to feel wrapped around you.

You're no longer embarrassed that he can read your thoughts, in fact he seems to be getting turned on by your erotic thoughts and you picture him on his hands and knees sucking your cock. Now it's his turn to stop, and he summons you with the crook of his finger.

It seems so needy that you'll respond to his every command but you don't care, even if you'd known in advance that this was the deal you'd have still gladly gone ahead with it.

You shuffle after him all the way to the bedroom and he gestures for you to get on the bed, you're glad that it's no longer a single bed you're sleeping in as he's a god of a man, so huge and rippling with muscles that it would be a waste to see him cooped up in a single bed.

He stands at the end of the bed, tall and proud, waiting until your eyes lock with his before starting to strip off the tight t-shirt, every muscle dancing pleasingly as he slides it off, his hair falling around his face as he slings it aside. He's already barefoot and you don't remember seeing him take of his shoes but he must have had a trick up his sleeve for that. But it doesn't matter, as he's going in for the big reveal, sliding down his shorts to reveal the tightest pair of boxers you have ever seen, stretching the material until it's translucent over his perfect arse and sizable bulge.

You lick your lips at the thought of what they're hiding as he teases his thumbs around the waist band, watching your reaction, gauging how aroused you are, testing your limits.

He flicks his hand and your dressing gown slips open, showing off your already leaking cock, as though he needed any more proof that you were gagging for it already.

Inching down his boxers, giving you a glimpse of his flushed cock, has you biting on your lip in anticipation. Your hand starts to wander down to your own cock, but he tells you no and you obey, fisting your hands in the sheets to keep them occupied.

Just as you can bear it no longer he turns around, pulling his boxers down over his perfect arse and you want to rush over there and fuck him right this second but you know that if you wait it will be all the sweeter. You don't know if that's your own thought or one that he's projecting into your mind, making sure that he gets the best meal from you. Either way you don't care, just as long as you get the mind blowing sex that his aura of lust seems to be promising you.

He steps out of the boxers before turning around, his long, thick cock is jutting out and every vein is throbbing in anticipation. You feel like your pulses have synchronised, and you're holding your breath as he crawls onto the bed, his luscious hair framing his swollen lips as he licks them, his eyes never leaving yours.

When he reaches your ankle he begins to kiss his way down your leg, your hips bucking at every touch of his lips as though your skin is on fire with lust. Each kiss is closer than the last and although you want to watch him you end up with your eyes scrunched closed as he starts on the sensitive inner thigh skin, his hair tickling your balls and making it feel even more erotic.

The way his hair flutters over your cock when he moves almost has you coming and he seems to be able to sense that and backs off, giving you a minute to collect yourself. When you're no longer on the brink of orgasm he dives in to nuzzle the base of your cock before kissing his way up to the tip, teasing it with his tongue before placing a single kiss to the tip as you writhe on the bed, gasping already from just a few kisses.

His warm mouth feels like heaven around your cock and it doesn't take long before the rush of orgasm begins to build, but every time that you're close he's able to sense it and slow down his motions, leaving you floating on the edge of ecstasy for what feels like forever.

He circles a finger around your hole and it's all it takes to have you coming hard, it feels like your orgasm is inhaled into him, the aftershocks that he causes with his teasing finger lapped up by him.

When you finally open your eyes he's staring up at you, licking his lips with a satisfied grin, but you know that it's nowhere near enough, not for either of you and your still hard cock is standing proud, a glaring advertisement that you want him.  He drags you into a messy kiss, your little gasps of pleasure like sweets to him. He trails kisses down your body and uses his tongue to tease your nipples, he's hitting all of your spots and you know then for sure that he can read your mind, in which case he knows exactly what you want to do next.

He wastes no time getting on his hands and knees, every bit of him looks spectacular in that pose and he knows it. You want to ask about lube or condoms, you don't have either, you never expected to be in this position but he takes your hand and guides you down to his already slick hole. You shrug off your dressing gown and line up behind him, you're worried that you won't live up to expectations, but the thought of saying no to an opportunity like this is unthinkable so you gently hold his hips while pressing on in.

He's so tight and warm that you feel ready to come again but he relaxes around you, giving you a moment to steady yourself before bottoming out inside him. He's already purring about how good you feel and every whimper of pleasure has you thrusting a little bit quicker until he's tightening around you, dragging your climax out of you, it's bordering on violent, but it's never painful, just unrelenting pleasure as he screams in ecstasy, the ripples of his orgasm extending yours until you're lightheaded with it all, there's still aftershocks rushing around and you feel the crackle of static in the air as he drains you of every last drop of sexual energy.

You collapse on top of him, unable to do anything else and he rolls out from under you, positioning himself around your as he cradles you to his chest. The sound of his breathing lulling you to relax.

Your fingers play with his hair, and you sling your leg over his hip, just skin on skin contact with him is arousing and you know that even though you're exhausted now, it won't be long until you want more.

"When do you have to leave?" you ask, not wanting an answer to the question, but you need to know how much longer you have with him, you want to make every second count. You hadn't really read the book beyond the summoning part and you just expected it to be a one night deal. That's the way these things usually work.

"Leave?" he says, for the first time all night he looks confused and you kiss the wrinkles on his forehead. He grins as he stares into your eyes.

"You summoned me. I'm yours forever, just as long as you feed me."

**Author's Note:**

> *and obviously none of this actually happened, it is all a figment of my twisted imagination ;)


End file.
